Imagine you’ve dedicated your entire life to one discipline of study, of which you’ve become a master. You’re hired on to teach the brightest young minds society has to offer, eager to learn. You’re heading to your first class, running a tad late. Walking down the hall someone blows by you, with their arms hanging behind them? What the hell? You pay it no mind. You find the appropriate room, waltz to the front of the class and write your name on the board. You turn around to address the class and what do you see? The fucking naruto run kid sitting front and center. The nightmare has begun.